Chapter 140: Ruthina’s Stable Now

After Ruthina fell asleep and got stable, Arielle got out of the room and saw Liv. The corridor outside the infirmary was quiet and cold, the torches burning low in their sconces, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Arielle’s hands were still trembling, her heart still pounding with the remnants of the fury that had consumed her.

She had washed the blood from her hands—Ruthina’s blood, from where the omega had clawed at herself in her desperation—but she could still feel it, still see it, still smell it. She did not know if she would ever be able to forget. The memory was seared into her mind like a brand, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ruthina on that floor, crawling, sobbing, begging for help that never came.

She leaned against the cold stone wall for a moment, her eyes closed, her breath coming in slow, shaky gasps. She could feel the rough texture of the stone against her back, could feel the chill seeping through her clothes, but she did not move. She needed the cold.

She needed something to anchor her, something to keep her from spiraling into the rage that was still clawing at the edges of her control. She had never felt fury like this before. She had never felt so utterly, completely consumed by the desire to hurt someone, to make them suffer, to make them pay for what they had done. But she could not give in to it. Not now. Not when Ruthina needed her.

"Your excellency, you’ve summoned me? What happened?" Liv’s voice cut through the silence, sharp with concern. She had come as quickly as she could, had run through the palace corridors with her hand on the hilt of her sword, her mind racing with a thousand terrible possibilities.

She had been in the middle of a meeting with the palace guard when the summons had arrived, and she had not even excused herself. She had simply stood up and walked out, her boots echoing against the marble floor, her face set in lines of grim determination.

"They stopped me from entering the infirmary. They said that the golden rabbit was in heat." She added and looked worried, her brow furrowed, her eyes searching Arielle’s face for answers.

But Liv paused when she saw the fury in Arielle’s eyes and the way her shoulders tensed. The Lady of Arthion was standing rigid, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and her eyes were still glowing faintly with the remnants of her earlier rage. She looked dangerous.

She looked like she was ready to burn the world down. Liv had seen Arielle angry before—had seen her fight, had seen her argue, had seen her stand against the entire council with nothing but her words and her will—but she had never seen her like this. This was not anger. This was something deeper, something darker, something that had been carved into her bones.

"Hey, Arielle. Calm down first and tell me what happened," Liv said, and she reached out and held Arielle’s shoulder. Her grip was firm but gentle, grounding, a reminder that Arielle was not alone. She could feel the tension in Arielle’s muscles, the way her whole body was coiled like a spring, ready to snap.

"They hurt the golden rabbit. I want you to go back and tell the Sovereign and the Empress to do something about this!" Arielle said, and her voice was shaking with the effort of holding herself together. The words came out sharp and fast, like stones thrown at a wall, and her hands clenched tighter at her sides.

"Who? W-Who hurt the golden rabbit? They are aware that she is a sacred being," Liv said, and her voice was incredulous. She could not believe what she was hearing. The golden rabbit was the most protected being in the kingdom, the most revered, the most sacred.

No one would dare to harm her. No one would dare. The idea was unthinkable, impossible. And yet Arielle was standing before her, trembling with fury, and Liv knew that it was true.

"The church. Inside the palace. She was in heat, and they locked her in a room." Arielle’s voice cracked, and she had to stop, had to take a breath, had to force the words out. The memory was too vivid, too raw, and it clawed at her throat like a living thing.

"If I wasn’t able to hear her whimpering and calling for help, I wouldn’t have known. They stripped her, Liv. They only gave her a small towel to cover her body, and you call that they would not hurt her because they are aware she is the golden rabbit?!" Arielle said, clearly frustrated and feeling overwhelmed. The words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other, and her voice rose with every syllable until she was almost shouting.

Liv’s face went pale. Her hand tightened on her sword, and her eyes hardened with a cold, deadly fury. She had been a soldier for most of her life, had seen the worst that people could do to each other, but this—this was different. This was not war. This was not battle. This was cruelty, pure and simple, and it had been committed in a place that was supposed to be sacred.

"I will inform the sovereign, and for sure, she will burn the church for committing this atrocity," she said, and her voice was grim, absolute. There was no doubt in her mind that Qazaethel would act. The sovereign had made it clear, time and time again, that she would not tolerate cruelty against omegas. And this was not just any omega. This was the golden rabbit, the sacred being, the symbol of hope for an entire kingdom. The church had overstepped, and they would pay for it.

"Then it should be. Bury down the church if it means stopping them from hurting more omegas. I regret being the one to suggest strengthening the church." Arielle said, her voice was full of contempt. The words were bitter on her tongue, sharp and jagged, and she meant every one of them.

"The church should be a sanctuary, not a place for people to gain power and make others suffer." Arielle added, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She had spent years fighting for the church, had argued with the council, had convinced them to allocate funds and resources to rebuild and restore the sacred spaces. She had believed in the church. She had trusted them. And they had betrayed that trust in the worst possible way.

"Arielle, I know your frustration. But for the final judgment, let the sovereign decide," Liv answered, and her voice was calm but firm. She understood Arielle’s fury—she felt it herself, burning in her chest—but she also knew that they could not act rashly. They could not let their anger dictate their actions. Not when the stakes were so high. Not when the whole kingdom was watching.

Arielle sighed and nodded as she tried to calm herself. "You’re right," she said, and the words came out reluctantly. She did not want to calm down. She wanted to rage. She wanted to break something. But she knew that Liv was right. Revenge was not hers to take. That was for the sovereign to decide.

"I’ll send someone to investigate this and turn everyone involved in for questioning," Liv said, and Arielle finally calmed down and nodded. She could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to ease, just a little.

"Thanks, Liv," Arielle said, and Liv nodded. Then Liv turned and left to carry out the investigation and report to Qazaethel, her footsteps echoing down the corridor, her hand still resting on the hilt of her sword.

Arielle watched her go, and then she stood there for a moment, alone in the cold corridor, and she let out a long, shaky breath. She felt drained. She felt hollow. She felt like she had been fighting for hours, and she had nothing left to give. But she could not rest. Not yet. Not until she knew Ruthina was safe.

The physician came out, her face tired but calm. "Your excellency," she called out, and Arielle’s attention snapped to her.

"Yes? How is she?" Arielle asked, and her voice was sharp with worry. She took a step forward, her hands reaching out as though she could pull the answer from the physician’s lips.

"Her musk pheromones have subsided, and all that’s left is a fever. I prescribed some medicines and herbs that will help her nerves and calm her. Since we didn’t use the intercourse method, expect her fever to last days, but she’ll be fine. Just keep her here in the infirmary so that everything she needs will be given immediately." The physician said, and Arielle sighed in relief.

The relief was so intense that her knees almost buckled, and she had to lean against the wall to steady herself. She’s fine. She’s going to be fine. The words echoed in her mind like a prayer.

"Thank you, physician," she said, and her voice was thick with gratitude. She wanted to say more, wanted to express the depth of her relief, but the words would not come. So she simply nodded, and the physician nodded back, understanding.

"Excuse me," the physician said, and she walked away, her footsteps fading into the distance.

Arielle entered the infirmary and saw Ruthina’s sleeping figure on the bed. The room was quiet and warm, the fire in the hearth burning low, and the curtains had been drawn to keep out the cold winter light.

Ruthina looked small on the royal infirmary’s mattress, her hair was spread across the pillow, her rabbit ears drooping, but at least she was wearing comfortable sleepwear now. The physician had tucked her under the blanket, and the sight of it eased all of Arielle’s worries. She was safe. She was warm. She was alive.

Arielle walked to the bed, her steps slow and quiet, and she touched Ruthina’s forehead and felt the rabbit’s fever. She frowned and sat beside Ruthina on the edge of the bed, her movements slow and careful so as not to wake her.

The mattress dipped under her weight, and she reached out and took the rabbit’s hand and brought it against her lips to plant a soft kiss against the rabbit’s soft knuckles. Her lips lingered on the warm skin, and she closed her eyes, letting the feel of Ruthina’s hand in hers ground her, calm her, remind her that everything was going to be okay.

Arielle’s gaze then landed on the rabbit’s soft features and the subtle involuntary twitch of her rabbit ears. Even in sleep, Ruthina was beautiful. Even in pain, she was radiant. She was the golden rabbit, the sacred omega, the symbol of hope and purity for an entire kingdom, and she was Arielle’s. Arielle held Ruthina’s hand and sighed out of relief.

"Please get better. I am here," she whispered, and her voice was soft, tender, full of love. She would stay by Ruthina’s side until she woke. She would stay until the fever broke. She would stay until the monsters were gone. And then, together, they would make sure that no one ever hurt her again.

She sat there for a long time, her hand wrapped around Ruthina’s, her thumb tracing slow circles on the rabbit’s palm. The fire crackled in the hearth, and the wind rattled the windows, and the world outside went on, but Arielle did not notice any of it.

She noticed only Ruthina—the soft rise and fall of her chest, the gentle flutter of her eyelashes, the way her rabbit ears twitched in her sleep. She noticed only the warmth of Ruthina’s hand in hers, the steady beat of Ruthina’s heart beneath her fingertips.

And as she sat there, watching over the omega she loved more than life itself, Arielle made a silent vow. She would protect Ruthina. She would protect all omegas. She would tear down the church, would burn their sacred texts, would scatter their priests to the wind if that was what it took.

She would fight, and she would win, and she would make sure that no one ever suffered the way Ruthina had suffered. Not while she drew breath. Not while she had strength left in her body.